


'splosion

by Shapiqapiqa



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Explosions, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Other, Uncle Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 23:23:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7012351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shapiqapiqa/pseuds/Shapiqapiqa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles pulled a sad face. “But I missed you, dzieciaku. Does three days mean that I can’t miss you?”</p><p>Nick giggled at the nickname and hugged Stiles around the neck. “Fine, I missed you too.” The boy pulled away and then muttered under his breath, “Big baby.”<br/>Stiles widened his eyes at Nick before grabbing him and poking at his sides and the back of his neck. “Who told you to say that? Huh? Huh?!” he demanded. The boy shrieked and squirmed as Stiles kept poking his sides. He had tears in his eyes when he finally gave up and yelled in Stiles’ ear, “Uncle Derek! It was Uncle Derek. He said to call you that when you make your eyes go big and sad but you’re not actually sad.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	'splosion

The bell rang and a few seconds later, a sea of kindergarten students walked out of the blue double doors, happily chattering away with each other. Stiles looked up from his conversation with Derek to look for a boy with dark brown hair and dimples on each side of his mouth. Occasionally there were shouts of ‘Mom!’ or ‘Dad!’ when the kids found their parents. Knowing from past experiences, Stiles didn’t worry when five minutes have gone past and Nick was yet to be seen. The kid was easily distracted and he loved to hang back to talk his teachers’ ears off. 

Finally, Nick emerged from the building, his hands moving in the air as his mouth ran a mile a minute. His favourite teacher, Mr. Boyd had his head bowed in order to listen to Nick better. His face was serious and amused considering he was indulging a five year old who was probably rambling about his pet hamster and how their babies were super small and tiny. Stiles snorts at the picture but couldn’t stop the fond smile from forming on his face. God, he loved this kid a lot. 

Boyd walked Nick right up to Stiles and Nick only stopped talking once they were three feet from Stiles. His eyes lit up in excitement and he leapt towards Stiles, knowing full well he wasn’t going to fall. Stiles’ hands easily secured the boy and spinning him in a half circle before depositing him at his hip.

“Hey buddy. How’s it going?” he asked the five year old.

Instead of answering, Nick simply sighed contentedly before circling his arms around Stiles’ neck and putting his head down on Stiles’ shoulder, allowing him to inhale whiffs of Stiles’ scent. 

“Hey Boyd. What was he going on about today?’ he directed the question towards the other man who was now smiling at them. 

“Farm animals. He was telling me his plan to convince his dad to buy him a cow.” Boyd said.

Stiles laughed. Other kids would be asking for a pony or a horse and yet this kid asked for a cow. Only Nick. 

After saying a quick goodbye to Boyd with a promise to see each other that weekend, Stiles turned to the five year old who was squirming to be let down. Stiles squat down so he could look at his godson properly. 

“Okay so, how bad did you miss me, kiddo?” he asked the boy teasingly.

Nick laughed at his uncle. “I saw you three days ago, Wujek.”

Stiles’ smile grew wider at the Polish that he had taught the boy. Scott had groaned and complained about it but it was good natured and he always had a little smile when he complained.  
Stiles pulled a sad face. “But I missed you, dzieciaku. Does three days mean that I can’t miss you?”

Nick giggled at the nickname and hugged Stiles around the neck. “Fine, I missed you too.” The boy pulled away and then muttered under his breath, “Big baby.”  
Stiles widened his eyes at Nick before grabbing him and poking at his sides and the back of his neck. “Who told you to say that? Huh? Huh?!” he demanded. The boy shrieked and squirmed as Stiles kept poking his sides. He had tears in his eyes when he finally gave up and yelled in Stiles’ ear, “Uncle Derek! It was Uncle Derek. He said to call you that when you make your eyes go big and sad but you’re not actually sad.”

Stiles stopped tickling the boy and he went limp against him, breathless from laughter and mirth. “Thank you. Now I know on whom I shall exact my revenge on.” Stiles said in his best knight voice. Still breathless, Nick only giggled at him. 

“Okay, kiddo. What do you want to do with me today?” as he asked Nick, he started moving towards the minivan Scott and Allison had bought when they had Nick. Since none of them wanted to brave untangling the booster seat, an arrangement was made. On Thursdays, when Stiles picked Nick from school, Stiles would use the minivan for the day and Scott would send and pick Allison up from work. 

“Can I have ants on a log today?” Nick asked seriously. 

“Sure. But is it okay with you if we drop by my greenhouse first before we head home? I left some of my stuff earlier.” he replied as he pulled the door one-handedly. 

“Okay.’ Nick hummed as Stiles strapped him in the car seat that only consist of a small cushion in order to enable the seat belt to fit correctly instead of the five point harness hell when he was younger.

When he was done, Stiles moved to the driver’s seat and started the car, throwing a smile at Nick when he craned his head to back out of the spot. 

“So, dzieciaku. What did you learn today?” he asked.

Nick started excitedly talking about his day and Stiles listened obediently all the way to his greenhouse. 

His greenhouse started when he dedicated a square of his backyard to planting wolfsbane to always hand some in hand in case of emergencies. Because he’s Stiles, he had found out that anise was supposed to ward off bad dreams. He was at first skeptical but after the events of the Nematon, he quickly grew desperate, not just for himself but also for Scott and Allison. All three of them were plagued with nightmares at least every other night, especially after Parrish’s sacrifices that had given the old stupid stump more power. After one particularly bad night where he had sleep walked all the way to the station barefoot and only in cotton pants and a t shirt in the middle of November just because he had to warn his dad about an impending doom. That was not a good night and the next day found him in his bed all day, refusing to leave the bed due to the knot of terror in his gut. He finally gave in to the Wiccan online website and scoured it for herbs that could ward off nightmares and give him at least a dreamless sleep. The easiest and most convenient herb had been anise. Put an anise seed under your pillow or inside your pillowcase and believe it will work, the website said. He had done exactly that and despite his sceptisism, had believed it would work. The next morning, he was pleasantly surprised when he woke to his phone’s alarm with no recollection that he dreamed the night before. So he bought anise plantlets from a local nursery and planted it next to the wolfsbane in his backyard. His beliefs in those Wiccan practices grew and his backyard garden widened to accommodate more plants and herbs such as ash, cinquefoil, snapdragon and basically any and all plants and herbs he thought could benefit the pack. 

A few months in, he noticed his small garden blooming and thought of his mother who had loved gardening and had a green thumb. After months of planning and discussing with Scott, Stiles finally grew balls to ask Derek if he could build a greenhouse where the old Hale house used to be. His worries were unfounded, Derek said yes without a second thought and a few years later, Stiles was known in the supernatural world as a supplier of herbs in the Nor Cal.

Taking the familiar turn that now had a wooden sign saying ‘Greenhouse Ahead’, Stiles waited for Nick to finish his sentence before announcing, “Alright kiddo we are here.”

“Can I go with you? I like the smell of your greenhouse.” Nick asked as Stiles pulled the car to a park. 

“Sure. Put on your shoes first, though.” he said, unbuckling his seat belt and turning to look at Nick whose shoes are now on the floor on the car. Nick had followed Allison when she was younger, according to Chris. She would take her shoes off at the first chance. “I’m gonna go in first, okay. I’ll open the door and you come in when you’re ready.”  
At Nick’s nod, Stiles turned off the engine, slid out of the car and headed straight for the greenhouse. 

At age five, Nick became big on independency. He would insist that he could unbuckle his seat belt on his own, put his shoes on with minimal help, bathing himself with only supervision, carrying a bag whenever they go grocery shopping even though most times it resulted in the bag being dragged. So Stiles left him at the car with only a glance that showed Nick strapping his Velcro shoes with full concentration, his lips in a pout and his eyebrows crinkled adorably. 

 

Stiles unlocked the door to the first greenhouse and pushed the door open. Stepping inside, he tripped on something and fell on his face, pain blooming on his chin and elbows where he tried to break his fall. Thank god he did because that was when he noticed the explosive on the floor in the middle of the greenhouse. At first, he was frozen, eyes disbelieving what he was seeing but then adrenaline kicked in and instinct from being a cop’s kid and running for his life most of his high school career took over.  
“Shit.” he swore, getting on his feet and slamming the door behind him. No doubt he had tripped on a wire that armed the explosive. He ran at full speed towards the minivan but it seemed like he was too slow. Nick was already one foot out the door and distantly, he heard himself yelling at Nick to “Get back in the car! Now!” but Nick was frozen, confusion coloring his face. Heart pounding in his chest, Stiles reached the boy and time reset to normal. 

He lifted Nick under the arms and shoved the boy inside the car before pulling the sliding door shut as hard as he could. His mind was chanting please please please. He used to worry about his life but not as much as he worried about Nick’s at the moment. As soon as the door was shut, rocking the van slightly, there was a loud noise and scorching heat at his back. The impact from the explosion fifty feet away threw him bodily against the van, making pain blossom on his head and right shoulder. There was a crack when his head made contact with the window and he cried out in pain.

Stiles fell on his back on the ground, ears ringing, muting everything. He clenched his eyes shut against the pain. He could feel warm, sticky liquid running down his temples. His left hand came up to cradle his right shoulder. He could hear muffled shout of “Stiles! Stiles!” coming from above him. With a lot of groaning in pain and starts and stops, Stiles managed to get on his feet. His head was spinning, every movement making his brain rattle in his head. He pulled the passenger side door open and climbed in with difficulty. Once inside, he shut the door and studiously ignored the burning greenhouse to his right. 

His vision wavered and he can’t keep his head straight. Nick’s face came into view and Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. He was crying, tracks of tears running freely down his cheeks. His lips were moving when he climbed into the driver’s seat, his hands going to Stiles’ face. Stiles’ couldn’t pick out the words he was saying and even his own questions of “Are you okay? Nick, are you hurt?” was muffled in his ears. 

He must have blacked out a few seconds before there was a jarring pain in his right shoulder. Nick was shaking him, probably scared when Stiles closed his eyes. Stiles cried out in pain and Nick pulled his hands back. With his left hand, Stiles dug his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Nick. “Call 911.” he instructed.

“Dad?” Nick mouthed. Stiles shook his head and repeated, louder, “911.” He couldn’t see straight for long enough to unlock his phone to dial Scott. 

\--

Nick fumbled with the phone, his hands were shaking too much and he was trying to keep his eyes on Stiles, making sure he stayed awake. Because if Stiles went to sleep, Nick would be too scared to do anything. Uncle Stiles had taught him once how to call 911. He pressed on the green icon shaped like a phone and the keypad appeared. He dialed 911 with shaky fingers and put the phone to his ear, his eyes still on Stiles’ bloody face.

“911. What’s your emergency?” a woman’s voice said.  
“Help. Please. My uncle, he’s hurt.” Nick replied, his sobs probably making his words unintelligible. 

“Okay. Kiddo, what’s your name? Do you know where you are right now?”  
“I’m Nick.”  
“Okay Nick. Where are you and your uncle?” the calm voice helped Nick focus. He needed to focus on helping Stiles.  
“We’re at his greenhouse. I don’t - I don’t know the address.” he cried.  
“Okay. That’s okay. We have your location and I have already sent an ambulance there, okay? They’re on their way. How hurt is your uncle?”  
“His face has b-blood and his eyes are open but it’s like he can’t see anything. A-and I don’t think he can hear me. He won’t answer my questions.” he sobbed. “And his shoulder’s all weird.”  
“What happened exactly? Did he fall?”  
“No! There was a - an ‘splosion. I was putting on my shoes like Dad taught me and he went in first and suddenly he was coming back and he pushed me and he closed the door real hard and then he hit the door.” Nick sobbed. “Is he gonna be okay?”  
“We will try real hard okay? Now is he still awake? Are his eyes still open?”  
“Yes.”  
“Okay. Can you hear the ambulance, Nick?”  
“Yes.”  
“Hang tight, okay?”

\--

Stiles could hear Nick’s muffled voice talking on the phone with the 911 operator. Sobs would interrupt his speech but he continued talking and explaining. Moving his left hand until he found Nick’s small hand, he held the child’s hand in his, trying and probably failing at squeezing it reassuringly. 

Stiles blinked and the next thing he knows, he almost fully horizontal, there was a light tapping on his cheek and he was blinking bleary eyes at the blue sky that was dabbled with gray smoke. Focusing his eyes, he could see a man in a white uniform on his left side. There was a woman on his other side, finger gently touching his face. 

The man sighed in relief and gave Stiles a small smile. 

“Good, Mr. Stilinski. You’re back with us. My name is Matthew. Can you tell me what you remember happened?” he asked. 

What happened? 

Oh. Oh. 

“Nick. Where’s Nick?” Stiles asked. He remember after he got into the car Nick had said he was unhurt but he still needed to see it with his own eyes. 

“I’m here.” a small voice said. 

With difficulty, Stiles turned his head so that until Nick’s face came into view. He let out a breath and breathed easier when he saw there was no blood on his face and he was standing and walking and talking. 

“Hey, kiddo. Come here.” Stiles tried to pat the space next to him with his good hand but it felt as heavy as lead and he wasn’t sure if it even moved at all. Nick eyed the small space, then glanced at Matthew. Matthew took pity on him and nodded. He held up his arms, “Here, let me help you, okay? So we can make sure not to move your uncle too much.’

The usually independent Nick obediently held up his arms. He was then picked up and put next to Stiles, his unhurt arm curling around Nick’s shoulders. Nick turned his body so that he could smush his face into Stiles’ side and immediately started crying. 

“Shh, I’m okay. Shh.” he rubbed his arms consolingly on Nick’s shoulder. Stiles then turned to the paramedic. 

“Hey, has the Sheriff’s Department, especially the Sheriff himself been alerted? Because if not, you should do it fast. He won’t like it if he wasn’t the first to know.” he said.

Matthew nodded at him. “They have and he has. We’re taking you to the hospital and meeting him there.” At that, he looked at his partner and after receiving a nod, started to move the gurney inside the ambulance.

Once they were secured inside and the ambulance started moving, Stiles’ eyelids felt heavy. Nick was still crying, dampening Stiles’ shirt but at least he has stopped sobbing. He has started hiccuping and he still had his small hands fisted in Stiles’s shirt. 

“Kiddo, shh. I’m okay I’m gonna be just fine. You know how it makes me feel when you’re crying. Shh.” he tried again even when his hand’s movement slowed and his eyes drooped halfway. 

“It’s okay. You can go to sleep now.” the woman told him. Stiles nodded and gave in but before he succumbed completely, he mumbled to them about making sure Nick wasn’t to be left without a family member. He remembered making the paramedics promise but then he didn’t last long enough to hear the reply. 

\--

The next time Stiles opened his eyes, it was to an off white ceiling in a bright room. He blinked rapidly to adjust to the light. The next thing he registered was the warmth around his good hand. Stiles tried turned his head but it was too heavy and he groaned in discomfort that was caused by the non-movement. 

“Hey, you’re awake.” his dad’s face came into view. His face was lined with worry. Stiles smiled weakly at him. 

“Hey, Dad.” 

“How do you feel? Pain meds working?” his dad asked. His Sheriff uniform was stained with black spots and wrinkled, his hair was disheveled and his eyes were tired.

Stiles wet his lips and his dad caught the movement. He poured water into a small plastic cup and cupped Stiles’ head while he drained the whole cup in small sips.

“They’re working, alright. What’s the prognosis. Will I ever walk again?” 

The Sheriff smiled tiredly at his son’s antics, always trying to make the people around him feel better. No doubt he was already blaming himself for putting the worry lines on his dad’s face.

“They popped your shoulder earlier while you were out. You have to wear a sling for a few weeks and they said no heavy lifting or sports for at least two months. So no, there will be no lacrosse game with Scott or Isaac or Boyd or Liam. You have a concussion from where your forehead hit the side of the car.” 

The Sheriff waved his hand around what Stiles assumed was a wound on the right side of his temple where most of the throbbing was from. 

“There’s a cut on your chin but we haven’t been able to figure out where that was from without your story and a bruise on your left elbow.”

 

Stiles took this in, processing. There’s something his dad didn’t mention though. There’s something missing. He knew his dad was waiting for an explanation about what happened because he had his cop face on. 

Just then, the door to the single room opened and in came Scott McCall and “Nick!”.  
The boy whose eyes were downcast startled and looked up at his godfather. His eyes showed the aftermath of tears and his nose was red and irritated, probably from all the rubbing. When he saw Stiles, his steps faltered and stopped completely. 

His dad who had presumably been steering the five year old with an arm on his shoulder stopped too. 

Stiles visibly exhaled in relief and dammit but tears were pooling at the corners of his eyes and there was a lump in his throat. 

“Nick, hey. Hi, buddy. I’m so very glad you’re okay.” When Nick remained silent, Stiles’ smile fell. “You’re okay, right? He’s okay, right?” he turned to the Sheriff. 

The Sheriff nodded at him. “Nick, honey why don’t you come over here and tell Stiles you’re okay.”

The boy looked at Scott as if asking or permission. When Scott smiled warmly at him and gave him a gentle nudge, he shuffled his way across the room to stand on Stiles’ bedside. 

Stiles made grabby hands at Nick, using his good arm even though the movement jostled his head a little. He just needed confirmation that Nick was warm and unhurt in his arms - well, arm.

The boy took hold of Stiles’ hand with both of his but made no move to come closer. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Come here and gimme a hug. I need a hug from my favourite person.” Stiles said, trying to conjure a smile on that sweet face. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” came the reply, spoken softly, almost a whisper. 

“You won’t, dzieciaku. Scott, a little help here.” he motioned impatiently at his best friend. 

Scott obeyed and moved forward, lifting his son in one smooth motion. The Sheriff helped Stiles scoot to the right with minimal jostling of his arm and head. Scott then deposited Nick next to Stiles, much like during the ambulance ride. 

Scott gave him a quick hug and peck to the temple. After becoming a father, he became more and more tactile towards the pack. Stiles smiled at him before redirecting his attention to Nick who was hugging him tightly with both hands and a leg thrown over Stiles’ hips. Stiles buried a hand in his hair and rubbed slow circles while the boy rubbed his scent all over Stiles’ hospital gown. 

“It’s all right. Everything’s just fine. Shhh....” Stiles knew Nick was still freaked out over what had happened and like him, needed confirmation that his Stiles was all right. 

To his horror, Nick’s shoulders started shaking. That was the opposite of what he wanted. He wanted Nick calm and relaxed, not sobbing and crying. 

“Hey. Why are you crying?” he asked, softly. 

“I was s-scared and you were hurt but I didn’t know how to do that thing like when Dad takes the pain away and I didn’t know what to do... I-I thought you were gonna die and leave me alone in the car and- and...” and the rest of his speech was garbled and cannot possibly be translated. Based on the frown on Scott’s face, his son didn’t share these concerns with him while Stiles was out for the count. 

“Nick. Nick, look at me.” Stiles waited until Nick got his sobs under control and looked up before speaking. 

“Look at me. I’m a little banged up but I’m going to heal perfectly and I’m gonna be up and running with you in no time. You know why?” Stiles smoothed Nick’s shaggy hair that he undoubtedly got from his father from his forehead and planted a kiss on his nose. 

“Firstly, I have my father, who is a worrywart and will be happy to take a revenge on controlling my diet and movement even though eating candy will not slow down my healing, Dad..” he faked a glare towards the Sheriff and the older man shrugged innocently when Nick turned to look at him. His sobs were slowing down and he wiped his tears and snot into the hospital gown before looking at Stiles expectantly. 

“Secondly, I have your grandmother who will quite possibly force my pills down my throat while also withholding the good stuff..” 

“Damn straight.” Melissa McCall’s voice sounded from where she was leaning on the doorframe. Stiles didn’t notice when she arrived, along with Allison, Lydia, and Isaac who was peeking into the room, his white M.D coat still wapped around his tall frame. Stiles gave them a little wave. 

Nick gave a snort at that, his lips curved slightly. He always seemed to find it amusing when adults swear in front of him after his dad sat him down and gave him the talk concerning why adults say some things that he shouldn’t.

“Thirdly, there’s your dad who will be taking it upon himself to act like my dad and will be handling me like I’m glass for at least the next month.” Stiles grinned at Scott, knowing full well that that was exactly what he was going to do. Scott made a face at his son, pretending to not know what Stiles was talking about. Nick was smiling now though his hands are still fisted to Stiles’ gown.

Just then, there was the sound of rapid footsteps and everyone turned to see who the newcomer was. Derek appeared and without breaking his stride, headed for Stiles and hugging him and pressing his lips to wherever he can reach. With Nick still clinging to Stiles, the result was a squished Nick between Derek and Stiles. Derek was breathing heavily and he seemed to completely disregard the fact that his glasses were holding on only to at the tip of his nose and that his hair was sticking up on one side. 

He was still the best damn sight Stiles has seen. 

“Hey, babe. You’re home early.” Stiles casually remarked even when his hand is holding fistful of Derek’s wrinkled shirt. 

Derek didn’t reply. He pulled back after a few minutes when Nick started squirming. Derek bent down to kiss and rub his cheek against Nick’s.

“I heard about what happened. You were very brave. Thank you for taking care of him when I wasn’ t here.” he said seriously to Nick. 

Nick gaped at him. “I didn’t even do anything!” he protested. “I couldn’t take his pain when he was hurt.”

“You didn’t have to, kochanie. You helped by being calm when you called 911, by staying on the phone and making sure Stiles was breathing. I’m very proud and very thankful to you.” Derek said, ruffling his hair. 

“We all are, baby. We’re all proud of you.” Scott announced and everyone nodded in support. Nick hid his face against Stiles’ side but this time, he knew it was out of embarrassment at being praised. Stiles smiled gratefully at Derek. Derek gripped his ankle and his thumb started circles there. 

“Lastly, I have this one who will try all of the above and make it to work. He will probably succeed too. He’s so perfect, isn’t he?” Stiles said, nudging Nick. Nick giggled loudly and everyone in the room smiled in relief at the lift in the mood. 

“Can I help, too? Take care of you?” he asked.

“Sure. You can supervise whenever I take a nap.” Stiles smiled. “You can take a nap, too. I won’t tell.”

This time, Nick laughed, delighted. 

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> This is years and years after canon and everyone in the pack lives because fuck canon that's why. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Comments are very welcomed. Mistakes should be pointed out and I hope the tags are fine.


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